


Shout it From The Rooftops

by HaveAGoodeDay



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: Affairs, Age Difference, Angst, Cheating, Established Relationship, F/F, Fighting, Fluff, Homophobic Language, Panic Attacks, autistic!Holtzmann
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 07:46:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10917441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaveAGoodeDay/pseuds/HaveAGoodeDay
Summary: "Oh?"The cigarette jumps with the sound, surprised and a bit hurt, probably by the lack of information. Holtzmann doesn't really, truly show it, instead she plasters on a very fake looking tired smile and tries to joke."Guessing the email invites don't go so far to the mistress, huh?"..The one where Erin has an affair.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> What's up! This chapter will be simple, catch up on their relationship. Future chapters will most likely be slower paced and isn't this fun! 
> 
> The official© song for this fic is secret love song by little mix, because it inspired me at two in the morning.

Such an eventful meeting happens in the simplest moments, the most basic requests. They're out for coffee, sitting in a Starbucks with two tall cold brew cups. Abby taps her nails against the wooden table, sighing loudly to get Erin's attention away from her phone.

"What's wrong?"

"My lab assistant." Abby answers, fanning her fingers out on the surface and breathing in, "Poor girl wants to work on her birthday."

"Sounds… Determined." Erin comments, glances as the iphone she put down buzzes against the table.

"She's turning 21!" Yates elaborates, "I asked if her friends and her were going out, she said she didn't have any."

"So basically like us in college?" Erin quips, seeing where this is headed.

"No. She doesn't have anyone. At all. I think she might be in witness protection."

"That's ridiculous." Erin groans, looking at the puppy dog eyes Abby gives her over the lid of her caffeinated drink. "I'm so not doing whatever you're about to ask."

Erin rolls her eyes when the only reply is an elongated ' _please_ ' that draws a few glances from a few people passing by.

"No way. Oliver has a karate belt presentation this weekend. Phil even set up a date night for Saturday night. I'm booked."

"Oh my god, forget about the child and bland white husband for a second," it's in good humor, but Erin still frowns and twists the wedding band on her ring finger absentmindedly, "It's Friday night. You can stay over at my place if you don't want to go home drunk. Deal?"

"I'll ask Phil." She bites her lip.

"That's a yes. You never ask Phil."

____

The girl's name is Jillian but she introduces herself as Holtzmann and awkward fist bumps, wearing paint splattered denim coveralls and a green crop top underneath. Aged but quality doc martens on her feet and spinning on a bar stool with a manic grin.

Blonde hair curled and pinned up in some half-ass but fully attractive pin up hairstyle, pins holding the creation together and light natural makeup.

Apparently it isn't weird to be out with two women twenty years older than her on her birthday, Abby getting straight to the point and asking,

"I'm buying you your first drink."

"Don't be silly." Erin lightly slaps her friend's arm, a smile playing on her lips. She hadn't been in a bar for years, maybe before the wedding and definitely before Oliver was born. At least 7 years ago now. "She must of drank before. Don't we all?"

Jillian, Holtzmann, shakes her head deliberately and it jostles the yellow circular sunglasses pushes up into her hair, "Nope!"

___

It is wreckless, dangerous and downright stupid but Holtzmann is flushed and stumbling by the time they make it out of the bar. Abby ditches them when a handsome business type offers a drink and a shared table.

"Just, just let yourself into my apartment." Yates had affirmed when Erin glared at her, "I have a feeling I won't be there tonight."

The innuendo behind the words is filthy but Erin finally relents and laughs, "Fine, go have fun."

It's the worst ( _best_ ) decision she's ever made.

  
___

Holtzmann tugs and tugs and tugs until her knees hit the couch and falls back with a barking laughter, "Oopies!"

Erin smiles, actually smiles and takes a moment to admire the red nose and large pupils staring up at her. They're both drunk, it's a bad choice but when Jillian licks her lips and rushes up to steal a sloppy kiss from her older companion, it takes her breath away.

All teeth and tongue and biting, Erin breaks enough to state, "I'm married."

"I know." Holtz practically purrs, hips thrusting up and looking for much needed friction.

"Damn it," Erin gulps, feels hands tug on her pencil skirt before deciding to say, "This is wrong."

Hands shove the skirt down her legs and follow the seam of her pantyhoes up to the juncture of her thighs, cupping the heat and nipping at Erin's ear to earn lusty moans.

"Feels right."

It does.

____

It keeps happening.

"I'm married." Erin always says, always feels her face fall with the statement.

"I'm ok with that." Jillian reassures, tosses a hand across her new lover's hips to keep them from twitching up toward her mouth.

___

Twenty times over the course of three months, it takes that long for the secret to get out of it's bag.

"You're autistic?" Erin's face drains of color, her hand stills where it was previously working Holtzmann like a type of string instrument. Jillian takes this as bad, because she scoots away on her bed and tries to redeem herself,

"It's not bad. It's actually aspergers but they stopped calling that and now I'm on some spectrum and called high functioning-"

"Jillian." Erin stops her, takes her face in her hands and tries to explain, "I'm so sorry."

"Are you… Do you not want me anymore?" It's so soft and scared and her blue eyes go downcast as Erin runs her thumb over a pale cheekbone.

"I _want_  you. God, Holtz, that's the problem." She feels tears spring to her eyes and watches Jillian lean into the touch of her palm, fingers indenting into the soft skin. "I want you more then appropriate. You're twenty years younger than me, beautiful and thoughtful and adorable and I'm taking advantage of you. The first time we…" The word sticks in her throat but she spits it out, "You were drunk for the first time in your life and I didn't even stop to ask you if you were fine. Do you not see something wrong here? Holtz, this isn't fair to you."

"I want it too." Is all Jillian replies, needy and trying to curl in on herself. Her own hands fidgeting in her lap instead of touching the woman in front of her.

"That doesn't make it right."

  
"It doesn't make it _wrong_."

___

Eight months.

Jillian buys her flowers but keeps them at her apartment and they only share her bed, keeps their visits as trips to the store or the occasional midday rendezvous after Erin drops Oliver off at school.

Erin bites hard down on the soft skin on Holtz's neck, leaving a blooming purple mark, hands cupping the younger girl's chest.

"Fuck!" Holtzmann keens forward on the bed and grinds her teeth together as Erin moves her firm touches down her stomach and over cotton panties.

"Tell me how you want it?" Erin requests.

"Hard, fast," The blonde has her hair down and her chest rumbles with a happy little hum, " _Dirty_. Please."

"I can do that." It's such a rush, having power where she'd usually be so submissive. Phil didn't care for strong female traits but Holtzmann absolutely bathes in the attention. Pushing underwear down scarred legs, touching each faded lab injury. The hot, wet feeling of Jillian's center as she swipes her finger pads across the girl's clit.

"Unnf, harder." Jillian doesn't really scream in bed, more of breathes heavy and whines, biting back her louder noises with clenched jaw and closed lips. Her hips jump to meet each swirling movement, sweat breaking out on her forehead when Erin leans down and takes a nipple in between her teeth.

She shakes, legs trembling as Erin kneels in between them. A long, low groan escaping her mouth that almost sounds painful but it _isn't_. Because she tenses up for a few beats before breaking. Laying back on the pillows with a sly grin.

"Your turn."

___

The room smells like sex and the vanilla candle lit on the dresser, it's flame flickering in the low light of the bedroom. Nearby Erin carefully buttons up her white blouse.

Holtzmann sits up with her back against the headboard, sheet only around her waist and and Erin can see dark bruises forming on the girl's exposed chest. A cigarette dangles from her mouth almost subconsciously until she lifts a hand and taps the cancer stick above a ash tray by her side.

They don't speak, not verbally, only silent eye contact and Erin wishes she could stay. Tries to think about something else when she pulls her own pants on.

Jillian is so _good_. She makes dinner and lights candles and never leaves any marks while the older of the two has created a painting of lovebites across her lover's neck.

"Oliver's birthday is on Wednesday."

It's a loaded statement, definitely too personal for their relationship. There is a fine line between the Erin Jillian sees and the housewife she actually is. Oliver tends to fall on the side of complete privacy. _Off limits_. A different life.

"Oh?" The cigarette jumps with the noise, it's surprised and a bit hurt, probably by the lack of information. Holtzmann doesn't really, truly show it, instead she plasters on a very fake looking tired smile and tries to joke.

"Guessing the email invites don't go so far to the _mistress_ , huh?"

"I was thinking." Erin starts, runs her hands through her hair in an attempt to calm the overwhelming bed head, "Phil is going on a business trip in Cali next week. We're having the party on Sunday since he'll be away on the actual day."

"Interesting."

"On Wednesday…" Erin takes a moment, collects herself and wonders if this is too much. If she's somehow getting more greedy. But the question tumbles out before she can stop it, pushing forth like the elephant into the room,

"Would you like to meet my son?"


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its raining and I have a tornado watch, and did I mention that rain terrifies me? Lighting hit and blew up an outlet by my head once. Horrible.

Her heart hammers against her chest as she pulls on a white blouse and black slacks, combing through auburn hair with shaky hands. Her bangs can't seem to fall right this evening, her losing fight with them interrupted by the sound of bare feet wandering into the master bedroom doorway.

"Mommy?" His own hair is dark brown, a match to Phil's, wavy and he keeps pushing his fingers through it to mess up the combed back style his mother worked on minutes before. Eyes, wide and innocent and looking up at her (dark blue, her own reflection). "Why do we gotta get dressed up?"

She smiles at him (it's always so easy) and explains as he tugs on his tucked in blue dress shirt, "Mama told you already, her friend is coming over for your special birthday dinner and cake."

"Oh yeah." Oliver recalls the conversation and digs his toes into the carpeting, "Is she nice?"

"Very."

"Does she like dinosaurs?"

A hum of agreement as Erin looks back at the mirror, checking to make sure her eyeliner is even.

"Did you make lasagna?" He's seven today, growing up too fast but Erin's chest warms at the way he messes up the dish's name as always.

"Yes-"

The doorbell rings.

____

Jillian fidgets with the leather jacket, black and above her favorite grey waist coat. The olive green button up beneath it all feels stuffy as she waits on the house's doorstep.

It's blue with white woodwork and black roof perfectly landscaped with daffodils, centered in beautiful Staten Island New York. Everything she expected Erin's home would be like. Everything that comes before her.

There is an electric children's sized car parked next to the door, and the engineer keeps her fears at bay by staring at it as footsteps make their way closer, figuring out how to make it go a smooth hundred miles per hour.

The door creaks open and Erin is there, looking stunning and beautiful and like a mom. Kid clinging onto her leg. The top of his head comes up to her hip and she rests a hand on his head. It's surreal.

Because this is something that she is not allowed to see.

Part of it makes her want to turn and run back to her 1999 jet black Harley fatboy bike and the other, the louder part, wants this. Feels a sense of adoration build as Erin says, "Hi, come in."

"Is this the birthday boy?" Holtz greets the child as soon as Erin takes her jacket and hangs it on a hook, "I've heard a lot about you."  
He peeks toward the gift box tucked under her arm as she drops in a crouch to see him eye to eye, the bright purple wrapping drawing his attention, "Is that for me?"

"Manners." Erin reminds, looking down at the two, "Oliver, why don't you go set the table?"

"Ok Mommy." He bolts off into the house, running out of the foyer and leaving both adults alone.

Holtzmann's eyes scan the almond colored walls of her older partner's home, neatly framed photos of a chubby baby aging to the child that she'd just seen. He has Erin's nose. Then she sees it.

A wedding photo. Two smiling adults standing outside a church, the bride holding a bouquet of roses on one hand and a ballroom style pure white dress off the sidewalk. The groom, tall dark and his arm wrapped around the woman at his side.

Happy.

"How long ago?" Is all Holtzmann asks when she feels Erin's nervous hand on her forearm as she tries to burn a hole into the photo with her glaring.

It's something Erin always refused to tell her and Holtzmann had ignored her nagging curiosity, until now. The question is short and to the point.

"Nineteen years in August."

Jillian swallows down the sour taste that leaves in her mouth. She was two when Erin was standing in front of a priest saying what turned out to be false vows. It twists her stomach.

Because it is easy to ignore these things when they are in her apartment on the corner of Jay and Greenwich filled with unframed, taped to the walls photos of the two of them together.

But she puts that horrible, guilty feeling away when Erin tells her that it's dinner time and they better get to it. Oliver sits across from the guest, at the four person kitchen round table.

"Your hair is _funny_." He tells her, toothy grin as she reaches up and touches the strands, "In a good way."

Jillian shoves a mouthful of pasta in her mouth before barely chewing her food and replying, "Thanks little man."

Erin rolls her eyes at the childish speaking-with-your-mouth-full behavior and starts a conversation, "Ollie, why don't you tell Jillian about what you got for your birthday?"

"Oh!" He almost jumps from his chair before remembering to ask, "I'm done, can I go get my toys to show Jill?"

His mother nods once and he goes to retrieve the things.

Holtzmann says, "Good lasagna."

"Thank you. Do you want soda or juice or-"

"Did you ever have sex with him on this table?" Jillian blurts it out, eyes wide and staring at the wood under her elbow, chest going rapid with quick breaths, "I'm sorry. It's bothering me."

"Jillian-"

"I can't handle my own _thoughts_." The younger woman rushes, her eyes taking on a glassy quality, "It's all I can think about. You probably did, _we_ did at my place."

"Jillian!" Erin tries to stop her rambling but what makes the blonde pause is the return of Oliver, his arms full of plastic action figures.

When Erin mouths 'not now' Jillian sniffles hard and turns to Oliver with a large, manic grin as he hands her a handful of dc comics themed Lego figures.

"Holy merchandising, Batman!"

____

They eat a handmade chocolate cake and watch two episodes of Nature Cat before it's Oliver's bedtime. Yawning and a bit fussy when he is told to go put on pajamas.

When Erin stands to follow him back into his bedroom, she looks expectantly at Holtzmann unmoving on the sofa. "Are you coming?"

"Should I?"

"Please."

The birthday boy gets a bedtime story of course, and Jillian is specifically asked to tell the tale of the three little pigs but instead of pigs they're pirates and the wolf is a transformer.

"So Optimus Prime is like, I'll charge and I'll charge and I'll blow your house to pieces but the pirates are mean and don't listen to the giant robot on their doorstep. Idiots, am I right?"

"Holtz he fell asleep five minutes ago."

"Oh I knew," Holtzmann winks toward Erin sitting on the bed with her son, "You seemed captivated with my physical story telling Mrs. Hudson, so I did a public service and continued."

Standing and leading Holtz out of the room and carefully and quietly shutting the door. She takes a moment and takes each of Jillian's hands in her own as the reach the living room. Guiding her to sit on the couch, Erin speaks up, "What's wrong?"

For a second it looks like Holtz is going to bottle up her feelings, shove them back like she usually does and forget til a later time. But she doesn't, she grips Erin's hands back and inquires with none of the normal jest in her voice, "Do you love _him_?"

"Oliver? Unconditionally."

"Phil." Holtzmann clarifies.

"Not anymore. Not like I love you." It isn't the first time she's said it but it is shocking each time, because it isn't her love to give. Isn't Holtzmann's to take.

" _A year._ " Is all Jillian says, stressing the words as her voice cracks, "A year and you haven't actually slept with me overnight. What are we doing?"

"I don't know." Erin deadpans.

"Are you going to leave _him_?"

"I want to." Erin watches Jillian clench her fists. Takes a moment to look over the tense shoulders and tightened jawline. "I can't."

"Is it because I'm younger than you?"

"Never."

"Is it…" Jillian hesitates, "Is it a gay thing?"

"No, there's nothing wrong with that." Erin sees her lover's face fall and frown, as if she's contemplating herself before saying,

"I could try to be less…" Jillian waves her hand to the waist coat, to the silk tie in a loose knot and pinned up hair, " _Dyke_ , if that's what you need."

It breaks Erin's heart and she makes her voice firm and unquestioning as she assures, "No. Jillian, I love you the way you are. Denim overalls and paint splatter and slightly singed split ends and all. Don't you dare change for _anyone_ , ok?"

Nodding, "What is it then? Why don't you want me like… Like you have him?"

"Oliver needs his father."

"That's a bullshit excuse and we both know it. Phil is out of town every other week." Holtz wipes at her eyes with the back of her palms, the room feels stiff and cold as Erin places her hand on the top of her thigh.

"I'm… I didn't tell you, because part of me believed you didn't have to know. Abby knows, and Phil does. That's the issue."

"What happened?" Holtz knee bounces, bites her lip. She scans Erin's features and finds creased eyebrows, eyes avoiding her's as much as possible, the confession slipping out like wet snow off the hood of a car, sloshing into the room without much buildup.

"I spent two years in a mental health facility."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on holtzmannsdimples.Tumblr.com for jazzy story writing updates, requesting drabbles and such
> 
>  
> 
> I wanted this chapter to be about Holtz dealing with her emotions! Did I do good? Review!


	3. See something, say something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YALL 
> 
> I DIDN'T PROOFREAD THIS BECAUSE I GOT A SIX FLAGS TRIP ON THURSDAY AND I'M TOO EXCITED

_"These ghost stories are out of hand." Her mother had said._

_Her father had sat there, simply staring down into his beer bottle._

_"We think you need help."_

___

"My parents," Erin starts, taking in the confused look on Jillian's face, "They thought I was crazy. I would wake them up every night and scream about a old lady standing at the foot of my bed. My mean neighbor. She had recently died."

"You saw her ghost?"

"You-" Erin chokes up, "You believe in ghosts?"

"Of fucking course." Holtz shrugs like it's the most obvious thing in the world, "I use to read books on the paranormal during my freshman year. Also about witchcraft, but _that_ didn't turn out very well." Holtz's widens her eyes comically and leans back on the sofa, clenching her teeth.

"My mother, she thought I needed to see a doctor. But I refused. At about sixteen they called the police and lied, said I was dangerous to myself and others. I was committed."

"That's horrible." Holtz mumbles, reaching over to take Erin's hand in her own for support.

"It wasn't as bad as it could of been. The kids at school already were bullying me, so it gave me a break from that. With all the freetime I graduated early." Erin squeezes the blonde's fingers tightly, "I lied and told the doctors that I made the whole thing up for attention. They released me and I moved to New York to attend Columbia, I haven't talked to my parents since then."

"Oh." It's quiet, too quiet and unusual for Holtzmann but Erin lets out an ' _oof_!' as the young woman throws herself into a hug, so forcefully it knocks them both off the couch with a loud thump, rolling onto the brown shag carpet.

It takes a moment, but Holtz's voice is mumbled against her neck when she says, "I'm sorry. I love you."

"I love you too." Erin replies, kissing her before Holtz sits up, still straddling her hips.

"Mommy?"

It makes her jump, knocking the blonde off and to the side, Oliver standing there with a sleepy, shocked open mouth expression.

"Olly-"

"Why are you kissing Ms. Holtzmann?" He stumbles a bit on the newly learned name, looking between the two.

Jillian spots the wrapped gift still on the table and grabs it, trying her best to put on her best smile and get up, walking over to where Oliver stands in Batman pajamas.

"Hey little guy why don't we open your-"

He starts crying, loud childish wails and clutching the stuffed penguin he'd brought with from the bedroom. Holtz freezes, awkwardly moving from foot to foot as Erin rushes past to comfort her son.

Holtz watches as he squirms in her arms.

_She_ made Oliver cry.

He saw them _kiss_.

Jillian bolts.

..

A loud burp echoes through the phone followed by the giddy voice of, "Yes! I caught it on- Oh, you've reached Holtzy's phone, leave a message after the BEEP!"

She's already left seven, so Erin hangs up and drops her head into her hands. Jillian ran out so fast she left her jacket, not that Erin would complain but Phil is coming home tomorrow and-

"Mama?"

"Yes?" Erin gently asks, looking at him watch cartoon network and eat cake for breakfast. She'd just about take him to Disney world to keep what he'd seen a secret.

"Why did you kiss that lady?"

No such luck.

He's curious, always has been, Erin doesn't know how to go about explaining such a complex relationship to him and settles on,

"I like her."

"Like you like daddy?"

"Yes."

"So you love her?" Oliver stares at her.

Erin gulps, she can't lie to him, not with what he's already seen, so the woman honestly tells him, "I think I do."

"Are you going to tell dad?"

That was a problem.

___

Holtzmann doesn't really know what to do with herself. She's finished with finals for this year, and Abby is getting tired of her moping around their shared workspace.

"Holtz," Her boss, friend, finally confronts on the ninth day of depressed groans and cheesy, sad 80s songs blasting on the tabletop radio. "What's the deal with… this?"

Jillian knows she looks a mess, with bloodshot eyes and dark circles under them. The band tee she wears hasn't been washed in… when _was_ the last time she was at a laundry mat?

"It's tragic, really." Holtzmann drawls out, rolling her neck to get out the cramp forming from sitting in the same propped up position in so long. "I'm in love."

Abby looks a bit taken back.

Holtzmann glances at her with a bit of a grimace, "At least, all sighs lead me to believe in the unbeatable fact that my brain feels something for a person. _Stunning_."

It's sarcastic, biting her lip hard but not enough to draw blood. "I don't think the other person, who shall not be named, thinks as highly of me as I do of them. And god, they are beautiful and amazing and smart-"

"Can we drop the act?" Abby asks abruptly, earning a raised eyebrow. The scientist's ponytail bobs she shakes her head and almost laughs, "I'm not blind, Holtz."

"You have to wear glasses to see street signs." Holtzmann retorts.

"That's not what I meant-"

"When they're only like, five feet away. Blind." Holtzmann insists, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"You're sleeping with Erin."

" _Whaaaat_?" Jillian tries to act casual but her elbow slides of the desk she goes to lean on, almost sending her to the ground, a sound of shock coming from her as she tries to play it off, "I'm so not. It's not her."

"Who is it then?" Abby demands, having too much fun watching Holtzmann squirm.

"…Kevin?" Jillian tries, lifts her shoulders in some type of shrug.

"Your roommate?" Abby scoffs, "First off, you're the gayest person I've ever met, you aren't dating a man. Secondly, Kevin might be the second gayest person I've met."

"Damn you got me there." Holtz snaps her fingers and admits, "Yup, it's your best friend."

"Thank god it's out now," Abby groans, relief coating her features, "I hated ignoring it and Phil always sucked. He got me a peach candle for Christmas, and the same exact one for my birthday. Every year."

"Does this mean you aren't, uh, angry about it?" Holtzmann asks tentatively.

"At Erin, yes. She's going to get a strict talking to but Holtzy," Abby nearly dances in place, "You're in love!"

"She's married." The blonde speaks up, sadness creeping into the statement. But Yates just waves it off and smirks,

"That can be fixed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review and check out my Tumblr @ holtzmannsdimples.Tumblr.com for DRABBLEs and shorts and my dank memes. Review, please. I gtg work on my Holtzbert week pieces


	4. Homecoming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost accidentally posted this to All the Pretty Stars. Oops

The scratch of metal cutlery across ceramic plates is nearly deafening in their dining room. The meatloaf is slightly overcooked and the potatoes are drier than usual, but Phil and Oliver still eat quietly along side her.

Except she's so nervous, she can't find it in herself to swallow anything in front of her.

Oliver hadn't mentioned what Erin is referring to in her head as the _incident_ , and the woman hadn't brought it up in fear of reminding him of it. Best for it to be forgotten.

Phil starts small, dinner time talk with a barely interesting story about golf mishaps during his business trip, to which Erin responds with casual but forced giggling.

Why doesn't she giggle around Jillian?

Why can't she stop thinking about Jillian?

Fuck.

"So John just," Phil smirks around his fork and seems amused, "sends the ball flying into Jim, you know Jim, right?"

She nods.

"Right into his car's windshield. They didn't talk for the rest of the week."

"Sounds fun." Erin says shortly but not purposely so, regretting how clipped her tone is after it leaves her mouth. He doesn't seem to notice.

"How about you buddy?" Her husband redirects to their son, who pushes vegetables, carrots, around on his plate with a crinkled nose. "Did you and mom have fun this week?"

"We went to the park everyday." Oliver stresses with a bright smile, "And I got to go on the big kids monkey bars."

Phil looks her way, surprise written across his features and says, "You never let him go on those."

"He's seven now." Erin shrugs with the simple explanation, and her face softens as she honestly admits, "I can't baby him forever."

"Yeah!" Phil says. Loudly. Too loud for a dinner table but it makes Olly laugh as his father stands and picks him up, a bit more difficult with how he's now growing like a weed. "Our big man now huh? Seven is the new fifty, they say."

"Who says that?" Oliver squeals, the meal forgotten as he is twisted upside down looks at his mother from the dizzying position. She waves slightly and he does so back if only more excitedly.

"Did you have a good birthday?"

"Yes!"

Erin shifts in her seat.

"What's you and the old lady do?" Phil teases, shoots a glance at his wife to convey it's in humor.

"We went to the space museum." The seven year old states matter of factly as soon as his father turns him right side up and plants him safely back on the ground. "And then we had dinner and cake with Mommy's friend."

"Abby?"

"No, _Jillian_." Oliver corrects, nodding his head as if agreeing that he indeed said it correctly.

Phil doesn't say anything, but there is something in his eyes, in the way they squint slightly at her when he looks over, or how they tell her how he's thinking over the name. Like how they look when she asks him what day it is and he frantically tries to remember their wedding anniversary.

"Jillian, really? Is she nice?" Phil settles on,

"Very." Oliver mimics Erin from the other day, answering the same question he asked her. "But-"

He actually looks at Erin then, a bit nervous as he tells the truth,

"She kissed Mommy."

___

It's only later that night after a silent, awkward viewing of Cars 2 and a little adorable monster to bed that Phil asks. They're getting ready for bed, both fresh from the bathroom, Erin changing into an oversized tee and sweats. Him in shorts and a wife beater.

"Kissed?" Is what he says when the click the lights off, both laying stiffly in bed.

Erin's thoughts swim, her tongue feels like thick maple syrup for how reluctant it is when she replies, "Jillian had a few glasses of wine after Olly went to bed, she kissed me."

Then Erin lies horribly. So horribly it feels like a physical hurt.

"I didn't kiss back."

"She's from…?"

"Abby's lab assistant. Working on her engineering degree, we get along well enough when I have to go help Abby." Erin is glad for the dark, to covers the tears that start to spill from the corners of her eyes, it mercifully doesn't affect her speech, "She's 20 years younger than us Phil, I would never."

He actually laughs, "That's true. If anyone wouldn't, it's you. Right babe?"

"Yeah." She says softly.

A few seconds, a short pause,

He speaks fast and giddy, "It's kind of hot. Like, super hot. I'm sorry, does that-"

She shakes her head even though he can't see, "No, you're allowed to think it's hot." The words she thinks after that linger in the front of her mind, _Lord knows I did._

"Do you…" He seems nervous, which is different. Phil always isn't afraid to tell her what he wants. "Do you think she'd be up for a…uh.."

"What?" Erin's voice cracks. She pulls the sheets up to her chest.

"You know." He insists even if she truly doesn't, but Erin is so quiet he must realize this and finally spits out the question. "A threesome? If you'd want to…"

"All _three_ of us?"

"Well, yeah. I think this could finally bring back that spark we use to have. Spice things up and all that."

"Why do you-"

"The better question is why wouldn't any guy want to?"

Reasonable answer.

  
___

Holtzmann doesn't answer her phone until the third time it rings, Erin tapping her foot in the produce section of the market on a Monday morning.

"Hey-yo." The younger woman greets and Erin picks up the soft chirping of chinchillas in the background. "Holtzy speaking."

You can practically hear the smile in her voice and it's so endearing Erin has to lean against the peach display to keep herself from doing something crazy. Like run over to the blonde's apartment.

Something crazier than she already has planned.

"Hi, um." Erin tries to quiet her mind, but it buzzes at forty stings of thought a minute. On the other line the chattering animals is replaced by the familiar background noise of 80s music and the distinct pop of a bag of chips. "Can I ask you something crazy?"

"I live for crazy." Jillian says like she's playfully offended Erin would even _ask_.

"Phil found out we... Kissed."

"…"

"Would you be interested in," Erin takes a deep breath before rushing out, "Would-you-have-a-threesome- with-me-and-my-husband-please?"

The old woman feeling up mangoes nearby gives her an odd look.

What she doesn't expect is,

"Sure. Why not?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a 101% this is going into a dark territory. If it helps I'll be putting warnings at the beings of darker chapters.


	5. Getting Over It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boy, I'mma get beat by y'all after this

"Sure. Why not?"

Jillian feels like her nerve endings are electric when she promptly follows the snide answer up with,

"Anything to make _you_ happy, right?"

It's bitter and cold and nothing like how she usually speaks to Erin, but Jill can find in herself to soften the blow. Her face feels flush with anger as she says, "It's not like I'm a _freaking_ lesbian or anything like that. Right, Erin?"

"He can't find out-"

The older woman's voice is desperate on the other line, a pick up in wind signaling that Erin stepped outside.

"It's all about you isn't it?" Holtz ignores her tearful tone, actually clutching onto the countertop to prevent herself from doing something rash.

"Holtz-"

"I have given up so much for you," She feels like it almost sticks in her throat, lodged there by the emotion now gather in her eyes. Threatening to spill. "What have you given up for me, huh? We don't even go on dates, Er."

"…"

"You know what-" Holtz shakes her head, trying to clear the awful fog that clouds her though process, "Call me when you finally figure whatever this, whatever we are, out."

Holtz looks at the two dirty plates left out on her counter, urged to take them and smash each until they break into itty bitty pieces to accurately represent how she feels when the words tumble out,

"I can't do this anymore."

___

"Holtzy _baby_ ," Patty pushes their shared order of curly fries across the questionably 'clean' diner table, urging the tired looking blonde, "You gotta eat eventually."

"30 to 40 days, less since I'm not properly hydrating myself. It's only been-" Jillian responds in a very pitiful tone, checking the bulky green watch on her wrist, "-Seven days."

"You're too good for her." Patty tries, because the subway attendant has been really trying. Worry etches across her features, seeing the blonde the most calm since they met one June evening, the blonde showing up for a train ticket back from Pride.

Somehow it spiraled into a very easy friendship including weekly lunches and Sunday drunk bowling for two years since.

"Realistically I could call her-"

"Baby no." Patty smacks the table with an open palm, hard enough to jolt the engineering student from leaning on her elbows but soft enough not to draw too many looks from fellow customers. "You can't let her keep using you!"

"It was a good kind of using though." Jillian sighs lovingly, eyes turning glossy as she continues, "Like when you use a brand new vacuum."

"How does that…?"

"Picks up the crumbs better." Holtz waves her off, not noticing Patty's overly confused expression. "I want her to pick up _my_ crumbs again."

This seems to bring a smile to the other woman's face, "Is that what you kids are calling it these days?"

"You're only two years older than me, Tolan." Holtz finally grins back, even if it is small and shakes a finger scoldingly.

"I know what you need," Patty explains, "I'mma take you to the hottest club in the city tomorrow, it'll make you forget all about this Erin lady."

"The hottest club?" Holtz raises her eyebrows.

Patty thinks for a second and then rephrases, "The hottest club we can get into."

  
___

She meets a woman named Jennifer L-something, it was loud in the bar when they'd introduced themselves to each other. She has long black hair and an adorably rounder face, her arms have bands with diamonds on them and the drinks she orders are expensive and served in fancy glasses.

Her breasts are in a push up bra obviously, pushing against the front of the form fitting black dress she wears. It's vastly different than Holtzmann's own formal (no paint or grease!) overalls and basic Walmart black tee, but Jennifer brushes her fingers over her shoulder and smells like the perfume Erin uses. So Holtz swallows the beer ordered for her and tries to make small talk.

It's probably good she's drunk, because when Jennifer gives her a wet kiss on the cheek and whispers seductively in her ear something about an apartment being only a block away, and how much she'd like to take Jillian there, Holtz finds herself nodding and being lead out without much thought to how much different this woman's kisses are compared to Erin's.

They fumble in through the door and Holtz would be lying if she isn't at least a little turned on when she tears her partner's stocking off, not knowing what to say when her fingers accidentally tear into the thin material of the pantyhose, Jennifer making a fuse she silences with hot, powerful mouth action.

Her brain is one of a scientist and she cannot help but compare one to the other. How Jennifer doesn't like when Holtz takes her time, how much different her and Erin's bodies her. The blonde almost starts crying when she peppers kisses down the near stranger's stomach, realizing with a start there's no C-section scar, right where Erin had her's.

She stops the onslaught of feelings by doing just that, feeling. Feeling her tongue press against Jennifer's center and her own hips grinding against the sheets below her. Feeling hands tug too harshly in her hair, the way Jennifer's peak is louder and quicker and somehow less special than Erin's.

The dairy haired woman ends up flipping them and Jillian has to fake an orgasm because the wrong color of hair is draped around her thighs, the wrong shape of fingers inside her. Jennifer seems satisfied with it and gets up to go to the restroom.

Holtz isn't there when she comes back out.


	6. Cold Sheets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Almost over, but hey! I got another really good AU in the pipeline currently being written out. Stay tuned

It takes three weeks more of watching Netflix alone with popcorn covered in caramel sauce for the soft knock, knock, knock to sound on her door.

Jillian, clad only in a one of the boys tee and smiley face boxer shorts, racks her brain for the possibly of visitors, only remembering after a few seconds about an order of pineapple and bacon ordered not too long ago.

She shuffles over to the doorway, flips open the latch locking it shut and swings it open toward her.

Immediately the blonde is greeted by Erin's worried features, the furrow of her brow as she stares Holtzmann down.

It's a bit of a standstill, they've been in this place many times under different circumstances. Lust, sadness, fear. Not this.

Not anger.

But Holtz keeps herself from saying anything, anything like how much she misses Erin. It's been a difficult time apart.

"Can I come in?" Erin asks, obviously understanding the answer is not a default yes as before.

Jillian takes two beats, one to decide and another to make it seem like that decision took longer than it did before consenting, "Sure."

She leaves the door open, hallway lit up to illuminate her mostly dark apartment until the blonde crawls over a pile of still unpacked boxes (how many years has she lived here? Three?) to click on a nearby lamp.

Brushing her sweating palms against her sides she questions, "Why are you here?"

To the point. No sugar coated small talk but raw emotion conveying itself in each drawn out word.

"I left him." Erin announces.

Jillian freezes, because this has been an unreachable dream, "But what about…"

Your son? Your life? Your constant worries?

"I'm willing to fight for it." Erin puts her chin up a little higher, puffs her chest out just a bit against the lapels of her tweed business suit and Holtzmann finds the little movements endearing. "I'm willing to fight for you, Jillian."

"Do you really mean that?"

Erin steps forward at the younger woman's words, her eyes wide and Jillian can see the panic settled into them from this close, the way Erin's hands shake when they come up to cup her cheeks.

Her breath comes in short, quick burst and Holtzmann urges, "You're ok. Breathe with me."

They do, Erin's chest heaving less heavily as Holtzmann asks her, "Good?"

The older woman's hands drift down to fumble at the edges of her lover's tee shirt, nails short but dragging against the exposed skin under the fabric.

"Can we…" Erin's question goes unsaid, but Holtzmann nods so frantically she nearly knocks their heads together. She's careful while pushing the suit jacket off Erin's shoulders in fear of accidentally being too excited.

"Fuck yes." Jillian sighs, standing on her tip toes to plant a messy kiss against the taller of the two's lips. Dragging her tongue across the length of Erin's lower lip.

"Here?" Erin tilts her head to the couch, in all it's messy glory.

At that moment another knock sounds at the door, Erin's head turning in it's direction and Jill taking the chance to suck at the tender skin above her collarbone, "We should get that."

The teenage, male voice outside calling out "Papa John's" has Jillian giggling as her hands dig into Erin's hips,

"Ignore it, I'm not hungry for _pizza_ anymore."

..

Erin's fingers curl in the blonde head of hair buried between her thighs, awfully filthy noises coming from the source that'll have her blushing for weeks afterward. Her back arches as Jillian presses the flat of her tongue against the older woman's center, a teasing look in her eyes when Erin looks down to see her keeping it there for a moment.

Her anxiety from earlier melts away with each stroke, bite and _lick_. She has to cover her own mouth when Holtz sinks her teeth into the tender flesh of Erin's thigh, continuously pumping her busy fingers until the world flashes in a burst of white light and she _shatters_.

Through heavy, panted breath Erin finds the energy to encourage, "Come here."

Jill listens, crawls up to tuck herself into Erin's side with gentle lingering touches over her sides, rounding across the space below her chest.

"I love you." Holtzmann says.

"I love you too." Erin returns.

"Are you really leaving him?" Holtzmann stiffens a bit, "Or was this just a plot to be on the receiving end of my talented hands yet again?"

"I did." Erin confirmed, "I told Phil I didn't love him like I use to. He was upset at first, asked some questions..."

"About what?" Jillian pipes up, curious.

"Phil agreed he wouldn't try to take Oliver away from me." Erin ignores the way Holtz rises up on her elbows and rolls to look her in the eyes, ignores the inquiry and keeps talking. "He agreed Olly needs me."

"Duh." Holtzmann snickers, pressing the side of her cheek against Erin's bare skin. "That kid loves you."

Something is off, Holtzmann notices it, in the way Erin won't look downward toward her, keeps her gaze toward the ceiling.

They fall asleep, tangled together in what feels like something that's been a long time coming.

___

Holtzmann wakes up alone.

Her eyes take a moment to catch up with the rest of her, already sitting up in the bed, rubbing the sleep from them and pushing sheets off her naked body.

The blonde fans her fingers over the empty space next to her, cold. There's no sounds of television of radio, maybe Erin's having coffee?   
She throws on a tee shirt, it's front designed with a unicorn puking rainbows, to be somewhat decent when she steps out of the room, heart bursting at the image of a certain woman sitting with a coffee mug at her counters.

But it sinks when there isn't that, there isn't anything. No Erin, no coffee. Nothing.

A quick check of the bathroom, sends Holtzmann into a near panic. Running hands through her currently unpinned up hair, pacing the length of the apartment.

She's almost convinced herself it was a dream, the white of paper catching her eye, taped to the fridge. Erin's neat cursive covering the front.

' _Dear Holtz,_

_I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you last night, but you were so happy and I couldn't ruin it. You of all people should know I'm not very good with words. But when Phil asked me why I was leaving him, I realized I couldn't just run to you or else he'd realized what I'd done and might of been angry enough to actually file for custody._

_I don't want to, but I deleted my number from your phone (sorry) and want to tell you to go get your PhD, graduate and become the best engineer ever._

_I love you, that's why I can't keep you._

_Good luck,_

_\- Erin Gilbert.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so if it didn't make sense Erin is basically breaking up with Jillian even though they both love each other because sometimes that's what people have to do to protect themselves and each other


	7. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This took forever to post. I might of forgotten I didn't. oops

Erin sees Jillian five years later, in a bagel shop on a Wednesday morning.

  
She’s dressed in a grey waistcoat and striped pants, odd enough to tip Erin off this is actually her long lost companion. Her hair is obviously longer, but pinned up the same, and the little bit of weight gain has her looking healthy.

  
But the most shocking development is the carrier she’s holding, bouncing against her hip as she walks forward in line. A few colorful toys hang in the seat, two little chubby hands grabbing for them.

  
A _baby_.

  
It’s got a tuft of blonde hair, and only about three months old, and Erin’s heart aches for those moments of Oliver’s childhood back. She (the older woman guesses, judging on the bib the baby wears that proudly displays ‘ _future president_ ’ and that is such a Holtzmann thing, it makes her eyes water).

  
So that’s how Jillian sees her, a little teary as she turns and finds her ex-lover staring at the baby she’s carrying.

  
“Erin?”

  
She hasn’t changed.

  
Erin thinks to the wrinkles setting in around her eyes, to Oliver nearing his teens and then greets softly, “Hello, Holtz.”

  
The baby blows bubbles as Holtz awkwardly asks, “Uh, how have you been?”

  
“Good.” The elephant in the room stands between them. “And you…?”

  
“Great.” Jillian smiles, actually smiles and the dimples bring flashes of bedrooms and love making and what could have been. “I spawned a child, if you couldn’t tell.”

  
Holtzmann as a mother, it’s almost unbelievable.

  
“She’s adorable.” Erin means it, the littlest version of the woman she loved ( _loves_ ) is. “So you got married?”

  
It’s blurted out, almost on accident, but the band is lacking from Holtzmann’s left hand. Erin is desperate for an answer she isn't sure of.

  
“Not anymore.” Holtz says with somewhat of a grimace, “Karen couldn't take all my…” The blonde vaguely gestures to herself, “you know. So I get the baby on weekends.”

  
“So…”

  
“Yeah.” Holtz shuffles in place, moves the carrier from one hand to the other, “I hate to ask you without, like, knowing if you have anything planned. But do you want to get coffee with me?”

  
“Now?” Erin tries not to sound flustered.  
Jillian spins, looks up at the chalkboard menu before confirming, “I mean, we're already here.”

  
“I have time.” Erin says a little too quickly, too rushed and it makes Holtzmann's face light up in a way that has both of them finding a table in the store with an air of giddiness.

  
It's two hours later, with a sleeping baby in between them, that Erin is getting ready to say goodbye.

  
But not for the last time. There's never a last time with Holtz.

  
“We're on for Friday? Dinner and a movie?” Erin makes sure, unbelieving.

  
Holtzmann steps backward to the door, boots scuffing against the floor as she calls out merrily,

  
“It's a date!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I love you all oh my god, how did you even like this? bless

**Author's Note:**

> Review please it makes me write faster! Follow me holtzmannsdimples.Tumblr.com and don't act like you don't have a Tumblr because every single ghostbusters fan is a lesbian and every lesbian has a Tumblr. Bitch you thought


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